


Boneless

by soncnica



Series: kosti!verse [7]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Abused Jensen, Abusive Parents, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Child Abuse, Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fear, Gen, Gen Work, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Memories, Older Jared, Panic Attacks, Physical Abuse, Psychologist Jared, Younger Jensen, not really a summer camp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-19 13:15:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4747787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soncnica/pseuds/soncnica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared hasn't been the psychologist at Camp Gamble long. He always wanted to work with kids - troubled kids - but now it looks like he might be in over his head. Jensen is 16, Jared is 26.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boneless

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I seriously only own the grammar/spelling mistakes. Everything else is NOT MINE! ALL IS FICTION.
> 
> PLEASE READ: After a comment I received on the previous story, I remembered that I forgot to put an EXTRA WARNING on this verse, so here it is:
> 
> I, and everyone in the story, are very much aware that what needs to be done is call the proper authorities and report the parents.  
> But that being said, as you may have noticed I'm writing this from Jared's and Jensen's POV and no one else's in the story. And as you also may have noticed I'm writing this at snail pace, as in, I'm writing without any time skips or anything like that. So ... you see where I'm going with this!? I can't say what someone else in the story is doing or what will happen next from someone else's perspective. I think everyone reading this will just have to trust me. :)  
> Thank you! And please if you aren't okay with any of this, please stop reading as I don't want to hurt anyone. That is not the intent of this story.  
> Thank you! :)

 

He's watching the trees pass him by, watching the sky get darker and darker, white puffy clouds becoming dark smudges above him. His hand is fisted in Jared's shirt, his knuckles pressed close to the bone. He can feel the guy's chest rise up and fall down with each breath Jared takes and it's soothing. A constant motion mixing with the up and down feeling of Jared walking.

The muscular arms pushing into his back and under his knees remind him of the tree he had been looking at a few minutes before.

Invincible.

-:-

He feels like he's floating, completely boneless, but he knows that the arms won't let him drift away, up to the sky like a balloon. They're like solid ground beneath his body, keeping him still even in all the motion.

He feels sleepy. Drowsy, like he sometimes does when the meds really kick in and he has no strength to fight them. Can't fight his parents. Can't fight anyone.

He wants to close his eyes and fall asleep, but the sky is too beautiful not to look at it, and the little of Jared's head he can see is comforting. It reminds him that it's not his father carrying him to his bed for ... punishment. It's not his father. It's Jared. And those are his arms and that is his breathing, and that is his heartbeat.

He wants to memorize this moment. Take it with him, just like those hours he spent alone curled under the tree, just like the time Jared was with him, sharing the tree. Take the memories and store them for bad times. Fall on them, when his father's belt will be slicing his back again, go to them when his mother will be throwing words at him, hide in them when nights will be spend in a soiled bed.

-:-

The shrink is quiet, just walks steady towards the camp. His hold tightens sometimes, especially when he has to step over a fallen log or a rock, tightens on the verge of pain at his ribs, but it's a good kind of pain. Safe pain. Not like when his father grips him so strong, ribs get bruised. Or broken.

He thinks he stopped crying a few minutes ago, but can't be sure, because while his face feels wet, he doesn't know if it's from the sweat or tears. He wants to wipe his cheeks, but his hand feels too heavy to move and he's quite okay with keeping his fingers locked tight with the guy's shirt.

He feels like a child, even if he ain't. He's sixteen, with bruises and scars made by his life, he's tough. But right now, he feels like a little kid and he has no strength to fight it. None. It all got sucked from him when Jared found him and convinced him to go back to camp.

"Hey Mike."

The whispered words startle him, make him flinch, but he's too sleepy to move his head and look at what's going on, who Jared's talking to. He just pushes his head closer into Jared's chest, hiding himself from the world.

"You found him. He okay?"

"Yeah, yeah found him. Call of the search party, okay. Get everyone back to camp."

"Yeah, sure. Dude, 's he okay?"

"Yeah, he's good. Just sleepy. It's been a hard day for 'im."

"Get him to my cabin, I'll call this in, wait for everyone to return and I'll come in, okay?"

"Yeah."

Then they're moving again. The rocking motion is like a magnet for sleep, but he really doesn't wanna succumb to it. He doesn't want this to end, he knows it will at some point, but this just feels so good. He's supported from all sides, nothing can touch him and even if it dared to, he knows Jared would protect him. He knows that, he is sure of it. Because the man found him, hadn't hurt him or pressed him for answers, hadn't been mad at him. Disappointed, yes, but that's better than anger, right? It should be, right?

There are stars gathering on the dark sky, twinkling like in the song.

What's that song?

-:-

"'kay, Jensen, we're at camp now, gonna get you to the med cabin, okay? Get you into bed, alright?"

The words don't startle him now, he doesn't flinch away from the vibrations coming from the guy's chest, he just goes with them and squeezes his fingers tighter.

"Okay then." is what he gets in reply to his squeeze and yes, it's okay.

-:-

The bed, when Jared finally places him on it, is the same one he escaped from earlier. The sheets have been replaced though, he can tell, but everything else is the same. He sighs when his head hits the soft pillow and lets his arms fall wherever they want; one on his belly and one along his side. He can't move. He's tired, of all this. Maybe even of running, because as everything in life, he failed in running away too. His mother would have a field day with that one. He can just hear her laugh at him, _failure, failure, failure, you little incompetent maggot_.

He closes his eyes and makes a noise deep in his throat. It's maybe a whimper, maybe just a meaningless noise. He doesn't know anymore.

"Hey, Jensen, shhhh, its fine."

He fists the thin shirt across his belly, not wanting to open his eyes. Because it's not fine. He makes that weird noise again. Can't stop it. Wishes he could, because making noise at home, means getting a tape across his mouth. Means a hand on his throat, and "You shut up." snarled into his face. Means more meds, too.

But not here. Here he gets slow, gentle tugs on his shoes until they're both off his aching feet. Here, he gets a blanket over his body. Here he gets a light, quick brush of fingers over his hair. Here he gets softly whispered: "Sh, shhh, go to sleep."

Here he can unclench his fists, relax his body and sink into the mattress.

Here he gets dreams.

-:-

For a little while at least, because when he wakes up sometime in the middle of the night, his stomach feels tight and his bladder is a second before exploding. The room is dark and he's alone, but he knows that Jared or Mike are somewhere really close. Just in case. Or maybe someone else is, but doesn't matter, because he needs the toilet. Right now.

He pushes the blanket off of him and stands up from the bed. His legs feel shaky, but otherwise he feels good. He's not trembling as much as he was yesterday, his mind feels clear, he can think, his hands aren't twitching. It's a good feeling. To feel good.

He walks towards the door and opens it. It doesn't make a noise, the hinges clearly well oiled. He's thankful for that, because even if he himself can be silent as a mouse, he can't really silent any creaking doors or floors. He's in a separate room in the cabin and he knows the door across from the hallway is the bathroom. They all got a tour of the most important cabins when they got here, so he knows.

There's no one anywhere. He can't even hear any noises. It's all silent, which should creep him out, but really all it does is calm him down, because all he has to do is cross the hallway, open the door, piss like a race horse and then go back to bed.

He won't run tonight. Jared doesn't deserve that. Maybe if the man was an asshole, then yeah, he'd be running away so fast there would not even be any dust to see behind him. But Jared doesn't deserve that. Not tonight.

He looks left and right, like he's crossing the street - his brother taught him to do that - and runs on the tips of his toes to the door. When he reaches for the door handle, he hears it.

"Jensen?"

_Crap. Fuck. No!_

He panics. Its instinct to him, like a wild animal scrambles for safety when it hears the sound of hunters. After everything, its instinct, born out of countless situations like this. Sometimes he was fast enough, then sometimes he had wished he had been fast enough for days after it had happened.

He quickly opens the door, runs inside as fast as he can, almost rips his shoulder out of its socket and locks the door. He hides. He hides from the word, from the voice, from whatever the outside had stored for him, he hides. Doesn't know what else to do. Maybe his father's gonna show him mercy, but he knows better than to sneak around like this, he knows better, _fuck_.

He leans on the door and breathes as deeply as he can, which isn't deep enough, because his lungs burn as if he had just ran a marathon. He lets a whine escape his throat and prays his father didn't hear it.

"Jensen, 's me."

 _Please, don't_ ... he feels hot wetness start to flow down his legs and when he concentrates on it, he can't stop. Can't clench his muscles and make the flow stop. His father's gonna be so pissed, he'll make him lick it all up.

He sobs, because he can't control this. His muscles won't obey him and his pants are soaking wet now and the puddle at his feet is hot.

"Jensen, 's Jared."

He sobs again. His body isn't his to control anymore. There's tension beginning to spread all over him again, fear and panic gripping his chest and he still can't stop the flow of urine.

He can't breathe, his lungs ache to expand, his chest's too tight... _nggghh, no!_

"Jensen, can you hear me?"

He's in darkness. Pure darkness, leaning on a wooden door, with wet cooling pants sticking to his shaking legs and a puddle of cold at his bare feet.

His father will make him lick it all up. He will.

"Jensen, come on. It's me. It's Jared. Can you hear me? It's Jared."

_Jared?_

"Jensen, listen to me. It's Jared. It's Jared. Listen to me."

_Jared?_

He ... _what?_

"Jensen, buddy, listen to me. Can you turn on the lights?"

_Lights?_

"The switch, on the left. Just turn on the lights, man. Okay?"

He fumbles for the switch with shaking hands, misses it a few times but when he hits it, the room explodes with light. He can see where he is. All wood around him, a sink and a toilet and a shower.

_This ... this isn't home._

"Good Jensen. See? See where you are, now? Can you unlock the door? You don't have to open it, just unlock it."

_Jared? He's not home. This isn't home._

"Jensen, buddy, can you say my name? Come on..."

He's not at home, this isn't ... and that isn't his father and _uhhh_ , he needs to take a breath. He rubs his hand up and down his chest, easing away the tightness.

_Breathe... stop shaking. Breathe._

"Jensen, can you say my name? Its okay, come on..."

_He's not at home, breathe._

_This isn't home, breathe._

_Not his father, breathe._

_Jared. Camp. Safe. Breathe._

"Jared?" he whispers through the lump in his throat and breathes.

"Yeah, buddy, 's me. Can you unlock the door? I won't come in, I swear, just unlock it."

It's not his father. It's not ... he's at camp.

"Okay." he whispers back and turns around, his feet stomping through the cool liquid, his toes splashing it around.

He unlocks the door and doesn't really know what possesses him, but he opens them. Slow and wide. Lets the light from the hallway to mingle with the one from the bathroom and he just stands there, looking at Jared.

The guy's hair is all over the place and he's wearing sweats and a white tee, not his usual uniform, so he must've been sleeping.

"Jensen?"

His eyes are soft, his voice softer. He has some pillow dents on his left cheek, but ... it's not his father.

"I-I p...peed m...my...s...self."

Are not really the words he wants to say, they just came out in a whispered stutter.

Jared smiles. It's not a mean smile, or a 'you'll pay for that, you little shit' smile. It's a smile. Just a smile and he never got that in his life. Just a smile that means nothing else but a smile.

"Don't worry about it, alright? Listen Jensen, listen, don't worry, okay? Go have a shower, and I'll be back with some new clothes, okay? Keep the door unlocked, okay? I'll knock when I'll be back, alright?"

He nods. He feels stupid and ashamed and okay, he can do what Jared said to do. He can.

"Good. 's all good, alright? I'll clean the floor once we have you back in bed, okay? Just go take a shower," he watches Jared rise up a hand, as if he means to lay it on his shoulder, but stops it mid-motion, lets it hang in the air, "Jensen, its okay."

He nods again and closes the door on Jared without a word.

He knows he's probably pink up to his ears, but he takes off his clothes, throws them to the floor to soak up the urine a little and steps into the shower.

The cold water on his skin is punishment. He knows its wrong, but he deserves it, because now Jared will have to clean up the mess he did. He deserves the cold. Besides, it dims the too fast heartbeat and the embarrassment a bit, but he is still so, so ashamed. He washes up fast, he always washes up fast, doesn't want his hands and eyes to find and linger on his scars. But this time he probably washes too fast, but he needs to cover himself with a towel as soon as possible, because he doesn't want Jared to find him … naked. He doesn't want Jared to see him at all really. Because he's drowning in shame and its coloring his cheeks red, he knows it, can feel the burn, but what has been done, has been done. And he showered with cold water. He punished himself.

At least it wasn't his father. At least that.

-:-

He's been wrapped in a towel for probably five minutes if not more, standing in the middle of the bathroom, catching his breath, the smell of piss really strong in his nostrils, when there is a knock on the door and Jared's: "I have clothes." seeps through the door.

He opens them and takes the pants and a tee from Jared's outstretched arm. There is no pity, there is no judgment on the guy's face and Jensen wants to sink to his knees and thank the guy. But he doesn't. He never does that. He grabs the clothes, whispers: "Thanks." with a raspy voice, closes the door to put them on.

He's been dressed faster throughout the years than right now, but that's just because he's stalling. He can't go out there; he can't face Jared right now.

_Fuck._

_Fuck!_

He drops down on his knees and starts cleaning up the mess he made with the towel.

"Jensen, you good in there?"

"I... uh, I'm fine. Be, be out in a minute."

"Jensen it's been ten minutes, come on, let's get you back to sleep."

_Ten minutes? What? When? No way. Just ... really? Ten minutes?_

"Jensen, hey... Jesus, no, hey, stop, hey look at me."

There's a shadow that falls over him and the floor where he's still trying to mop up the mess and he stops.

"Jensen, get up, come on. Its okay, everything is just fine. Don't worry about it, alright?"

He drops the towel with a wet splash and gets slowly up from the floor. It's so easy to do what Jared asks him to do, it's too easy really, but he can't fight it. He wants to, because taking orders from someone, other than his parents was never something he did, but Jared... the guy just has this thing going on, where every word coming from his mouth isn't meant to cut, even when made into an order.

"Okay, great, come on, let's get you to bed."

The walk across the hallway is over too fast.

-:-

He doesn't want to go to sleep, not after all of this. He feels embarrassed like he has never felt before and when he lays down into bed, he curls up into his side, away from Jared, tucks his knees all they way under his chin and closes his eyes.

"Jensen, you did nothing wrong, you hear me? Go to sleep. Tomorrow's a new day. Bright and early. Eggs and bacon for breakfast. Hmm? Yuu-mmeh."

He smiles into the pillow and snuggles deeper into the blanket. He wants to stay up, stay awake and help Jared clean up the bathroom, but sleep sounds good too. And he's sure that if he offers help, Jared will probably be mad. And he doesn't want to make him mad.

"Great, sleep then. I'll be right outside."

He's okay with that. He's okay with Jared being outside. Keeping an eye on him. Just in case his father decides to come get him.

-:-

Sometimes the anxiety, the fear, the pain never lets go, it's like a coiled snake inside his belly, wrapped around his insides, sinking its sharp fangs in his inner walls.

Once when he had been locked in the closet, he had ... an accident ... diarrhea, because he had nothing to eat for days, but water and fuckin' disgusting oatmeal. Josh had found him, probably because of the smell coming from the little crack under the door. His brother opened the door and his eyes met complete darkness. It was the dead of the night, probably, his parents asleep, probably. He had picked him up and carried him to the bathroom without words, stripped him of all his clothes, without words, went with him in the shower stall to hold him up, without words, shampooed and soaped him up - the whole nine yards - without words, re-dressed him, without words, carried him back to the closet, without words and just before he closed the door he whispered: "'m sorry."

But this time, he feels nothing but warmth and safety. The snake apparently went on vacation. He stretches himself along the clean, crisp sheets, the blanket on top of him heavy, but still allowing him to breathe. Jared is probably in the bathroom cleaning up, but ... it's okay.

Jared said its okay. And he washed with cold water. It's okay.

He dreams of Josh. He misses his brother.

**The End (but more to come)**


End file.
